


Say my name

by Sweetscribe



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Gen, Humor, Sherlock can't get Greg's name right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:36:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetscribe/pseuds/Sweetscribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's Greg!"<br/>"Is it?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Say my name

"Is that why you're calling yourself _Greg_?" 

"That's his name," came the incredulous reply from John.

"... Is it?"

Greg blinked, thrown back a bit by the uncertainty in Sherlock's voice. 

"Yes," he finally said, "If you'd ever bothered to find out."

 

- 

 

"They found the body this morning," he explained, walking across the scene next to Sherlock Holmes, John Watson trailing after them. "Seems he was out for a peaceful night jog when he got mugged."

The man had been found strangled, most likely dragged into the bushes and then he'd been mugged. Paid with his life. Poor sod. Sherlock crouched by the body, sniffing around and doing whatever it was he did that meant Greg needed him on so many cases. John stood patiently next to Greg, watching in silence. 

"He's not been mugged," came the annoyed reply from Sherlock. 

"Wha- but his wallet is missing."

Sherlock deigned to turn his head, giving Greg a withering look. "Sometimes I wonder how you made it to be a D.I., George," he muttered, turning back to the body.

Next to Greg came an audible sigh, one of those you could only make when you lived with Sherlock Holmes. Greg looked at John, then Sherlock. Had he just...?

"It's _Greg_!" 

"Is it?" Came the uninterested reply. 

 

- 

 

"Nice to see you here," Greg grinned, sitting next to John with his own pint. "Where's Sherlock?"

"Ah, home," John smiled. "Going to the pub isn't really his thing unless someone died there."

"Of course it isn't," Greg shook his head. "So what's he been doing lately?"

"The ususal. Setting things on fire," John took a swig of his pint, "complaining over the telly, sulking, experimenting with things you don't want to know what is."

Sounded very much like Sherlock. Greg didn't always understand why John put up with him, but it said a hell of a lot about John's character. He could stand Sherlock Holmes enough to live with him, to be his friend, even to put him in place. Maybe he should buy John a trophy. 

After a bit, John's phone rang, but after looking at the screen, John ignored it. 

"Sherlock," he explained.

After the phone had stopped ringing, John texted something, before putting the phone back in his pocket. 

"Told him I was at the pub with you," said the doctor. "And no, I'm very certain it's not important. Besides I'm  out. Even I need a break from him once in a while, or I'd end up strangling him with his own posh scarf."

Greg huffed a laugh, about to sip from his drink when his own phone went off. By now, Greg was used to being called at all hours, and never checked the screen because that was often a waste of time. 

"Lestrade."

"Make him go home," drawled a deep baritone voice from the other end.

"Wha-"

"Make him go home, I need him for an experiment. Well, I need his hair," Sherlock said, starting a ramble that wasn't intended for Greg's ears. "Anyway, make him go home, Gavin."

"I'm not going home," John said, having deduced that it was Sherlock who had called. "Not any time soon, at least."

"Gavin? Gavin, I know you can hear me! Make him go home," demanded the detective over the phone. 

"It's _Greg_!" He practically yelled, hanging up on Sherlock. 

"What did he want?" John looked slightly amused.

"Your hair," Greg grumbled, taking a large gulp of beer. 

John's eyebrows shot up, and the doctor nodded slowly before he raised his hand for another pint. "Yeah, definitely not going home any time soon," he muttered. 

 

-

 

"Isn't it your birthday today, Greg?" John asked, waiting for Sherlock to finish sniffing around the body. 

"Yeah, it is. How'd you know?" He was impressed. The people on the force knew, of course, but John...

"I consider you a friend, Greg," said John," also I remember seeing your date of birth back when I returned your driver's license last month, after Sherlock had nicked it." The 'again' went unsaid. 

Greg nodded, and just then Sherlock came up to them, sticking his hands into his pockets with a satisfied smirk on his face. 

"It was a sibling. If she has more than one, then look for the one who has a terrier. Come along, John."

Sherlock was already walking away when John cleared his throat and made Sherlock stop. 

"Sherlock, it's Lestrade's birthday today."

"John, that's not-" Greg began to protest, but was cut off by a sharp "so what" from Sherlock.

"Sherlock."

"Oh, fine. Happy birthday, Gary, how marvellous that you are alive, we're all so thrilled. There. Now come on, John!" 

Sherlock grabbed John's arm, impatiently dragging him with him. Greg stared after them, watching John tear himself free from Sherlock's grip and started ranting off about how you can't just drag people away like that. 

"Sir?" Sally Donovan came up to him, looking a bit worried. "Are you all right?"

"It's Greg!" He said, looking at her in disbelief. " _Greg._ "

 

-

 

"What is that?" Greg looked at the small wrapped box on his desk. 

"It's a present," Sherlock sighed. "Even you should be able to recognise one when you see it."

"Yeah, no, but why?" Greg prodded it curiously, then looked at John. "Is it safe." 

"Completely, I bought it," John nodded. 

"John insisted that since it was your birthday not too many days ago, you should have a present. Dull." Sherlock intoned. 

Well, that was nice. Greg took the box, it didn't weigh much, and there was a small tag attatched to it. 

 

**To: Gerard**

**From: It's a tie.**

 

Greg looked up, his lip twitching a little. 

"It's _Greg_ ," he said, as calmly as he possibly could.

"No, it's a tie."

"Sherlock!"

 

-

Glen, Gus, Gareth, Graham, Gustav, _Grace_ , Garfield.

-

 

"Why do you keep doing that?" John asked once they'd arrived home. 

"Do what?"

"You know what."

"I do?" Sherlock raised one eyebrow as he took off his coat. 

"Yes, you do," John pointed at him. "You keep getting Greg's name wrong, because you keep deleting it. Why do you do that?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Greg. Greg Lestrade," John explained.

"I said _what_ , not _who_ ," came an irritated reply. "I know who Greg is."

"Ah, no. You don't, apparently."

Sherlock frowned, looking annoyed with John, and went over to flop himself down on the sofa. 

"You've gotten his name wrong like fifty times now."

"Sixty seven." 

"Excuse me?" John blinked. "What?"

Sighing deeply, Sherlock turned his head so he was looking directly at John. "Sixty seven," he repeated slowly. "That's how many times I've gotten it 'wrong'." A small smile, only there for a fraction of a second, appeared on his face. 

Oh. Oh! 

"You don't delete his name. You're doing this on purpose!" 

The sparkle in Sherlock's eyes confirmed it. Christ. 

"Why are you doing that? You know it bothers him."

No reply. Ah, of couse.

"You're doing it _because_ it bothers him."

Sherlock only shrugged, looking pleased that John finally understood.

"I'm thinking Gilbert next time," said Sherlock, and John had to bite his lip so he wouldn't laugh. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea that Sherlock does know Greg's first name, but he chooses to get it wrong purely for the fun of it. I don't know, writing fun stuff is difficult.  
> Not beta'd, sorry for any mistakes.


End file.
